in which we enable ADHD:
I was sitting outside the office during lunch break smoking my 2000th cigarette of the day and thinking about whoever invented the concept of earning, when the security guard's cellphone received a message and the tone was that of a puppy whimpering in pain. The security guard is a nice guy who calls me Ma'am Petch, confusing me with Andrew Petch, I think, the number one creative in Asia, who also happens to be my boss boss. I wanted to ask him if he had downloaded that sound, or if he had recorded it himself, but then I realized that even if he had downloaded it and had never in his entire thirty-seven years of existence even smelled a puppy in pain, much less forced it to squeal and whine, there must have been a puppy in pain anyway, someone out there must have recorded it crying, and then that someone put the sound bite on the Internet. Then it made its way to me, now smoking my 2001st cigarette of the day, conscious of the heel of my boot coming loose just now.